


Little Brother

by pipermca



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 21:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13912455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipermca/pseuds/pipermca
Summary: Things moved on, like they always did. Sunstreaker found a position with the Cybertronian Security Force, and focused on his work: Protecting Cybertron, keeping the peace. You know, all of that stuff he never managed to do right in his life.He saw it as an opportunity for a second chance... Or maybe just a way to occupy his time.Then he heard about the protoforms.





	Little Brother

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at some point during or immediately after the Optimus Prime Annual 2018. Contains spoilers for Optimus Prime #9, Optimus Prime #14, and the Annual.

Sideswipe was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt whatsoever about that.

Sunstreaker and Arcee had helped Sideswipe die peacefully. That in itself was something; in the past four million years, how many Cybertronians had passed away peacefully, versus being blown to bits? Not many. So at least Sideswipe had that going for him.

After Sideswipe died, Sunstreaker had brought his brother back home to Cybertron. Sideswipe was buried. Sideswipe was eulogized. Sideswipe was mourned.

And that was that. Things moved on, like they always did. Sunstreaker found a position with the Cybertronian Security Force, and focused on his work: Protecting Cybertron, keeping the peace. You know, all of that stuff he never managed to do right in his life.

He saw it as an opportunity for a second chance... Or maybe just a way to occupy his time.

Sunstreaker had heard about the protoforms, of course. They were kept hush hush for a little while, but word got around. Especially when Trypticon showed up in Iacon acting as the Earth Embassy. It was only a matter of days before everyone had heard about the newest Cybertronians living inside him alongside the humans.

When one of the other Badgeless told Sunstreaker that Arcee had named one of the protoforms after Sideswipe, Sunstreaker shrugged. Who cared? After all, everyone knew that all the best names were already taken. It wasn’t like Sideswipe was using the name anymore. Why would Sunstreaker care that Arcee had given Sideswipe’s name to some new mech?

Of course Sunstreaker didn’t care. 

Sideswipe was dead.

The Cybertronian Security Force was tasked with escorting the Earth delegate and her entourage to and from the Council chambers. It was on his third escort trip that Sunstreaker first saw the protoforms. 

They were already full-grown, and had learned how to walk and talk. He wasn’t sure what they did all day except hang around inside the titan dinosaur, but Sunstreaker assumed they were being taught... Stuff. History? Maybe that was a good idea. Primus knew that Cybertronians had lots of history that they should learn how not to repeat. Mechs who had been around for millions of years couldn’t remember it, but maybe the new ones would.

A group of ~~protoforms~~ young mechs was walking through the ~~belly~~ lobby of the embassy as Sunstreaker waited with two other officers. They all looked at the officers, openly curious. Sunstreaker figured they hadn’t seen many other Cybertronians, since they were sort of hiding out in Trypticon. 

One of the mechs looked longer at them than the others did, then peeled off from the main group. Sunstreaker watched with growing irritation as the young mech focused on him like a laser. He walked straight up to Sunstreaker with a wide smile plastered across his face.

“Hi!” said the mech brightly. Undeterred by Sunstreaker’s glower, he continued. “I really like your colour. I think yellow’s my favourite colour, and that’s a really pretty shade.” He reached out a hand as if to stroke Sunstreaker’s arm.

Sunstreaker jerked back. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped. 

“Ok, I won’t!” said the young mech, pulling back his hand. He smiled up at Sunstreaker again. “My name is Sideswipe.”

Ugh.

“Of course it is,” Sunstreaker muttered, rolling his optics. 

This wasn’t Sideswipe. Now that he actually saw the mech in person, he had no idea why Arcee had named him that. He was all wrong. Aside from some superficial similarities around the shape of his helm, he looked nothing like Sideswipe. He was black where he should have been red and red where he should have been black. He was too short, his chest was too narrow, and his kibble looked like it wouldn’t even work correctly. Everything was wrong.

Except...

He had a familiar glint to his optics and quirk to his smile. He looked up at Sunstreaker with an expression of eagerness that brought back a deluge of memories and emotions.

...none of which Sunstreaker wanted right now.

“Sorry I’m late! I’m ready to go, Sunstreaker!”

Delegate Faireborn swept into the lobby with her assistants. As Sunstreaker nodded to the human and gestured to his officers, Sideswipe gaped up at Sunstreaker.

“You... You’re **Sunstreaker**?” The young mech jogged alongside Sunstreaker as the group left the lobby. “Wait! You’re Sideswipe’s brother? I need to ask you... Wait!”

Sunstreaker ignored the young mech until the door of the embassy closed behind them with a clang. 

Sideswipe was dead.

That mech wasn’t Sideswipe.

So if that wasn’t Sideswipe, why couldn’t Sunstreaker stop thinking about him?

Because other people kept bringing it up, that’s why.

“I heard you met Sideswipe’s doppleganger!” Fat Tankor said the next day.

“Where did you learn a fifty shanix word like that?” Sunstreaker asked. He frowned at the Tankor. “And he doesn’t look anything like Sideswipe.”

“Tall Tankor heard Starscream got a dictionary calendar, so he got me one, too,” Fat Tankor replied. “And I’ve seen him! He looks a little like Sideswipe.”

Sunstreaker crossed his arms. “If you think that mech looks like Sideswipe, then you’ve totally forgotten what he **did** look like.”

Sunstreaker remembered. And that mech didn’t look anything like his brother.

But of course that wasn’t the end of it.

“He was asking about you. In fact, he asks all of the officers when you’re coming back, every time they go to the embassy,” Ironhide said. He leaned back in his desk chair. “And it would be a favour for the caretakers if you’d talk to him. Trypticon’s kinda protective of the protoforms and doesn’t let ‘em out, and they don’t see a lot of other mechs. The caretakers said it would do ‘em good to talk to someone other than the humans. Build up their social skills and all that.”

“Why does he want to talk to **me**?” Sunstreaker asked. “We don’t have some special connection because Arcee thought he looked like Sideswipe. He met me for all of two minutes. Is he that desperate for someone to talk to?” He frowned. “Thundercracker’s there all the time, lately. Can’t **he** talk to him?”

“Look, I told ‘em that I’d ask you, that’s all,” Ironhide replied. He shrugged. “Just think about it, ok?”

Sunstreaker nodded grudgingly. “Sure. I’ll think about it.”

He thought about it all the way to the door of Ironhide’s office. 

That mech wasn’t Sideswipe. Sunstreaker didn’t owe **him** anything.

Sunstreaker managed to keep himself out of any escort duty for almost a week. It was easy work, and he thought it would be nice to give some of the newer recruits some experience that didn’t involve hordes of cybernetic ninjas or deadly magical talismans or any of the other slag that the humans had brought to Cybertron. But eventually there was an empty slot on the duty roster and Sunstreaker had to fill it.

Sunstreaker had hoped that maybe he could come and go without being noticed. 

No such luck.

The mech who wasn’t Sideswipe was sitting in the lobby when they entered. Had he really been waiting for the officers? He perked up as soon as the door opened, and he jumped to his feet.

“Hi!” he said, jogging over to the officers. Again, his optics were focused on Sunstreaker, and he had the same crooked smile on his face. “You’re Sunstreaker, right? I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m –“

“Sideswipe.” Sunstreaker crossed his arms over his chest. “I remember,” he said flatly.

“Really?” The mech’s smile grew wider. “That’s great!” He smiled up at Sunstreaker, his expression open and hopeful. “I was hoping you’d come back. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I heard.” Sunstreaker looked at the young mech. He noticed that the mech’s kibble had shifted slightly, probably as his frame solidified into its final form. It was a subtle change, but he looked more complete than he had the first time... More roadworthy. More... right?

His paint job was still completely wrong, though.

Completely unfazed by Sunstreaker’s standoffishness, Sideswipe said, “I wanted to talk to you because you’re Sideswipe’s brother. I wanted you to tell me about him. You know, the first Sideswipe.”

“...Why?” Sunstreaker asked. “Anyone can tell you about him.

“I want to know more about what he was really like!” the young mech asked. His smile turned a little shy. “Arcee told me a little bit, but I don’t remember a lot from before she left to go back to Earth. And a few people around here told me some things, but none of them really knew him well.” Then his wide grin returned. “But you would! So... Can you tell me about him? Please?”

Sunstreaker stared down at the black and red mech, honestly trying not to look annoyed. After all, it wasn’t this mech’s fault that Arcee had named him after Sideswipe. 

The young mech looked up at Sunstreaker hopefully. Something in the mech’s expression – something about the glow of his optics and the flash of teeth in his smile – reminded him so much of his Sideswipe. It pulled on memories and emotions that Sunstreaker had thought he’d buried with his brother.

Sunstreaker could suddenly see why Arcee had named him Sideswipe.

Then he heard himself say, “Sure.” Sunstreaker glanced up to see Delegate Faireborn walking towards them, and he looked back down at Sideswipe. “I’ll... I can come by tomorrow, if that’s ok?” Sunstreaker winced as he heard the uncertainty in his own voice. He was the one doing the favour here, so he should be the one calling the shots.

But Sideswipe’s smile grew wider and he clapped his hands together. “Tomorrow! Yes! That works! I’ll be here!” The black and red mech whirled and stepped back, carefully avoiding the humans even as he pranced away. “Thanks so much, Sunstreaker!”

Sure, Sideswipe was dead. But at least Sunstreaker could tell his namesake what he had been like.

But the next day, even after thinking about it all night, Sunstreaker didn’t have the foggiest idea exactly what he was going to tell the young mech about Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker rested his elbows on his knees and looked at the smiling black and red mech. Sideswipe had found a quiet place for them to talk inside the embassy. Sunstreaker wasn’t sure exactly where they were – somewhere near the base of Trypticon’s tail, or maybe in his armpit? 

Did titan dinosaurs have armpits?

Whatever. They were alone, at least. Except for Trypticon, of course, but there was no getting away from him.

Giving the young mech another look, Sunstreaker blew air from his vents. “Why don’t you tell me what you already know?”

The young mech hummed and picked at one of his knee joints. “I know he was an Autobot. I know he went to Earth. I know he died there, protecting a Prime.” Sideswipe’s voice became hushed at that last point.

Sunstreaker frowned. “No. He died in a CR chamber.”

Sideswipe’s optics opened wide. “Well, yeah. But he was in the CR chamber because he was hurt while protecting Alpha Trion. A Prime.” His voice was unmistakably reverent now. 

Sunstreaker wondered exactly who was in charge of the new mechs’ educations that Sideswipe held the Primes in such veneration. The Mistress of Flame, maybe? He wondered if he could arrange to have some alternate viewpoints brought in for the young mechs. “And that’s all you know?” he asked.

Nodding, Sideswipe smiled again. “Yup. Like I said, Arcee told me a few things, but that’s basically been it.” He shifted restlessly, the tires on his shoulders spinning idly. “But I want to know what he was really like.”

What Sideswipe was really like.

Sunstreaker’s memory played a small snippet of a memory from so very long ago. 

_They stood outside the meeting hall in Kaon, the night that Megatron put out a call for new gladiators for his team. Supposedly. Sideswipe looked worried. “I’ll watch the fights, bro, but – I don’t want you in there.”_

Sunstreaker remembered being dismissive of Sideswipe’s worry. But his brother had been right to worry. And Sunstreaker had never thanked Sideswipe for talking him out of going to the meeting.

“He was a good brother,” Sunstreaker said quietly. “He talked me out of doing something stupid, a long time ago, before the war started.” He looked down at his hands, clenched into fists. “We didn’t always get along. We... We were both hard to get along with, I think.”

Sideswipe’s hands were clasped in his lap, his attention rapt. “What else?” he asked.

“He was a great –“ Sunstreaker bit back the next word. Did he really want to tell his young mech, coming into existence in a world supposedly at peace after millions of years, that his namesake was one of the dirtiest and toughest fighters out there? Sunstreaker refocused his thoughts. “He was a great friend. You met Arcee. The two of them were best friends. They always had each others’ backs.”

As he spoke, the memories began to flow. The first battle they were in together. The first time Sunstreaker was wounded. Then, the first time Sideswipe was injured. Sideswipe’s incessant need to prove himself, pulling more and more outrageous stunts. Then... Hunter, and Sunstreaker’s deal with Starscream, and the bridge, and...

 _No. Focus on Sideswipe._ Sunstreaker looked at the young mech across from him again. _The good stuff._

“We had a falling out, but we worked it out eventually. He... He started to do things for the right reasons, instead of to impress... others.” Sunstreaker felt like he was walking through a minefield, trying to tell the truth, but not so much that the young mech would feel like he’d been named after a lunatic. ...Which wouldn’t be all that wrong, would it? 

Sideswipe was nodding. “But what was he **like**? The things he did... I’m sure I can ask an archivist about most of it. But they can’t tell me what it was like to know him.”

What was he like?

“He...” Sunstreaker hesitated. “He... He had a jet pack. He loved that thing. He gave it to Arcee.” Filtering through all the memories coloured by the pain and horror of millions of years of war, Sunstreaker found jewels that he could tell the young Sideswipe about. “He liked spending time with friends. Before the war, he liked going to dance clubs.” A flash of Sideswipe laughing, taking a swing at Sunstreaker’s shoulder after something he’d said. “He told the **worst** jokes.” Sideswipe smiled at that, and Sunstreaker worked his intake. Slag, he could look an awful lot like his brother when he smiled like that. “He was brave, no matter the odds. He was fierce. He was a mech you wanted on your side of a fight.” Sunstreaker closed his optics. “He was a good soldier. He was a good Autobot. I’m... proud to be his brother.”

Silence. 

After a few minutes passed, Sunstreaker opened his optics to see Sideswipe frowning. “I don’t know what else to tell you,” Sunstreaker admitted. Not without getting into things that he really didn’t want to talk about, anyway. 

“He sounds like he was a great mech,” Sideswipe said softly.

Great? Sunstreaker was trying to figure out whether he would classify Sideswipe great, what with all his anger and insecurity and recklessness, when he noticed that the younger Sideswipe had lowered his helm and looked... sad? “Err... Are you all right?”

Sideswipe looked up at Sunstreaker, a frown on his lips and creases on his browridge. “Yeah. I just... I don’t know how I could live up to all that. He did so much.” He looked down again.

“Live up to – “ Sunstreaker stared at the young mech. “You have nothing to live up to, you know. In fact, he did a lot of stupud slag in his life.” When Sideswipe looked up at him, Sunstreaker leaned down so his helm was at the shorter mech’s level. “You are your own person. Sideswipe... My brother had millions of years to accomplish everything he did. The good **and** the bad.” Sunstreaker pointed at Sideswipe. “You’re new. Your only job is to figure out who you want to be, and how you’re going to do it.” He met Sideswipe’s optics and held them, looking into the lenses that were the exact same colour that Sideswipe’s had been. “Just because you’ve got his name doesn’t mean you have to **be** him.”

“I guess so,” Sideswipe said, still a bit glumly. “It’s just that I knew he was a great fighter... I mean, he saved a Prime!... and I don’t think I’ll ever get a chance to get as good as he was.” 

Sunstreaker’s spark clenched. They’d been at war for so, so long, and all this brand new mech could think of was becoming a soldier? 

Another memory jumped to the front of his processor. He immediately recognized it as not one of his, but one of Hunter’s. Sunstreaker normally kept all of those partitioned off in his memory, not needing the reminder of the human who’d shared his mind and the pain of getting ripped apart, no matter how much they both needed it. But this memory escaped the prison he’d put it in. It was something that Hunter had heard somewhere. A female human’s voice. 

Reaching out to put a hand gently on Sideswipe’s knee, Sunstreaker said, “The world needs caregivers as much as it needs warriors.” When the young mech’s optics brightened slightly, he added, “I think the best way you could live up to Sideswipe is to live your life the best way you can.”

Finally, a smile lit up Sideswipe’s face, a mirror of the smile that Sunstreaker remembered. “All right. I think I can do that.”

Sunstreaker felt drained, like he’d just driven for hundreds of kilometers. He put his hands on his knees with the clink of metal on mesh, and stood up. “I’d better get going. I’ve... uh, got an early shift tomorrow.” _Or something._

Sideswipe jumped to his pedes. “I’ll walk you out,” he said, for which Sunstreaker was grateful; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to find his way out on his own. As they started walking, Sideswipe asked hopefully, “Will you visit again?”

Sunstreaker looked down again at the black and red mech who smiled up at him with an eager expression, his momentary melancholy forgotten. “Sure,” Sunstreaker said. Why not? The kid was sort of fun to talk to. He was like a blank slate, unmarked by millennia of war. It was refreshing. “Maybe next time I’ll bring Bob.”

“Who’s Bob?”

Sunstreaker wondered if Sideswipe’s education had covered the different types of Cybertronians yet. “He’s an Insecticon,” Sunstreaker said, watching Sideswipe carefully. “But he’s my friend.”

“Like a pet? Like Buster?” Sideswipe asked.

“Sort of,” Sunstreaker said with a nod.

Sideswipe bounced as they walked. “Buster’s a lot of fun! I like it when Thundercracker brings her here. Is Bob just as much fun to play with?”

Not able to resist a short laugh, Sunstreaker said, “Yeah. Maybe a bit more fun, since he’s bigger.”

They’d reached the gate leading out of ~~Trypticon’s pede~~ the embassy. The door slid open. “Thanks for telling me about your brother,” Sideswipe said. 

“You’re welcome,” Sunstreaker said. He held out his arm. “I’ll see you later, Sideswipe.”

Hesitating for only a moment, Sideswipe reached out and gripped Sunstreaker’s arm in farewell. The young mech’s hand was warm and alive against Sunstreaker’s plating, if nowhere near as strong as Sideswipe’s had been. “See you later, Sunstreaker.”

Already turning to leave, Sunstreaker paused and looked back at Sideswipe. “You can call me Sunny.”


End file.
